In The House With The White Picket Fence,
the world was so new and so fresh.
The wind would blow through the trees,
and the birds would blurt out songs of the sweet
morning light as the grass would wiggle between my toes.



In The House With The White Picket Fence,
I would sit in the sun with my hat covering my eyes as
I would wonder what lies behind the gate.
I would day dream of butterflies and sweet innocent things.


In The House With The White Picket Fence,
My journey was just beginning.
My Life had just stared to come to,
and so i stare into the sun’s rays and wonder
vaguely where I will go.

I think back on the house with the white picket fence,
The house with the vines and the pond
I think of the Butterflies landing on my finger
And I Think Back on the birds mellow song.